Something Like That
by Hope Diamonde
Summary: Girl travels back in time, to the Newsies time. Yaddah yaddah yaddah, same time travel fic stuff. I'm no good at summaries. Please R/R(oh! and it involves Spot! calling all Spot fans!)
1. Prolouge

DISCLAIMER- I don't own any of the newsies, Disney does BUT I do own all of my characters so if you want to use them I would be honored but please ask first.  
  
A/N- I know I haven't been on for a long time.and please check out my other story. More coming soon((stories and chapters)). I currently am on computer probation so shhhhh. Yeah so don't expect to much updating for a while. Sorry. Please please PLEASE!!!! review!  
  
SOMETHING LIKE THAT  
PROLOUGE  
  
It was the third time that week that I had found myself writing. Writing about what? It doesn't matter. All that does matter is the fact that I was writing. I was writing to escape the world. To escape everyone's laughter and jeers. So what if I'm different. Now I may not be beautiful but I'm not ugly. And I may not be normal but I know I'm not a freak. I have shoulder length moose brown hair, with the ends turned in, kind of framing my face, and I wear small, square, thick rimmed glasses that sort of hide the only thing I like about myself, my eyes. I've got the weirdest eyes. One is this brownish color with gold flecks and the other is a bluish-violet color, seriously it sometimes looks purple. I'm short, 4'11", 16 years old, and still figure-less. My mom says that late bloomers are the prettiest ones. I don't think I'm a late bloomer, I just don't think I'm going to "bloom" at all.  
  
Or maybe it does matter what I was writing about. Newsies. My newest love, obsession, call it what you want. Maybe that was the reason I was pulled back in time to 1899, Brooklyn, New York. I, like many other newsies fans, am in love with Spot Conlon. Now you're probably thinking I'm a freak and I'm losing my mind and that the men with the white jackets will be coming for me soon and that there's no way in hell that I could have gone back in time but I'm telling you, it happened. It may be because I live in Brooklyn and I may have had this really whacked up dream but I seriously doubt it.  
  
I was being teased constantly. About my clothes. Ever since I watched newsies two years ago (ok, so the obsession isn't that new) I have never gone anywhere without wearing my charcoal newsies cap. And my wardrobe only consists of capri's, boots like they wore back then, plain colored shirts, wool skirts, and knee socks. So I'm weird. I even tried to get my mom to let me be a newsgirl but of course she wouldn't let me. "It's too dangerous" she said. Whatever.  
  
Back to my adventure. It was the third time that week I found myself writing in order to escape. And escape I did . . . let me tell you about it, 


	2. Chapter 1: School

A/N- in case you want to know the girl's name is Johanna. But her nicknames are Jo and Joey. Just thought I'd tell you so you wouldn't be that confused.  
  
CHAPTER ONE: SCHOOL  
  
I woke up as I usually did to "Seize the Day". I have one of those CD/alarm thingies so I can set it to play whatever track I wanted. I found that one the most appropriate. I let the music keep going, until the song was done, but I guess my mom was PMSing because she snapped at me.  
  
"Joey! Turn that damn music off!!" oops. I'll have to be quiet this morning. Today is a special day. Today is Spot Conlon's birthday. In honor of this event, I'm going to wear * gasp * a skirt to school. Choosing skirts is a hard thing. But the only skirts I have are in the period of 1899 so I picked out, a short gray wool skirt, a navy blue ¾ sleeve shirt, gray boots, and navy blue knee socks. So coordinated. I brushed out my hair and shoved my cap over it. Looking at myself in the mirror made me laugh. I was decked out in only gray and blue, and the colors were alternating. I grabbed my khaki satchel backpack, the only part of my ensemble that wasn't gray or blue. Quietly I sneaked out of my room and through our small apartment.  
  
Seriously. Our apartment has only four rooms, my room, my mom's room, the kitchen, and the room where we keep the computer and the TV, we call it the den. The door opens into the den. I never eat breakfast so it only takes me ten minutes to get ready. After I get dressed I put on the only make-up I ever wear, black eyeliner. Putting on a thick layer with out looking like a whore is a specialty of mine. Of course no one would ever mistake me for a whore . . . The door to our apartment creaks so I have to open it quickly and close it quickly without slamming it, another specialty. I also never take the elevator because, 1) I'm not lazy and 2) the stairs are closer to our apartment then the elevator. As usual I ran down all eight flights of stairs, skipping the last one, 239 steps in all. The door at the bottom of the stairs opens into the back lot where I keep my prized possession, my red, restored, 1965 Ford T-bird. I pulled my keys out of my backpack and unlocked my car.  
  
"Heya babe. How'se you'se doin taday?" I said as I threw my pack into the passenger seat and started the car. Awww. The sweet sound of the engine starting, I only hear that two times a week. Guess today is a lucky day. I buckled myself in, for the streets of Brooklyn were no fun to drive on. I pulled into the street and made my well to my personal hell, Joseph Pulitzer High School. I always found it amusing that my high school was named after my heroes' enemy.  
  
School started at 7:30, so I always arrived at 7:23 to avoid as much before school bashing as possible. The sun had yet to rise when I got out of my car and began my one block walk to school, careful to avoid the Dennero brothers' alley. Everyone in school knew about these two bums. In fact, I even remember when they were still in school, seeing how they dropped out four years ago. Now they liked to pick on us. Perverted little bastards. For the first time in a week I made it to school without a confrontation. Only juniors had to worry about the brother's because there were only enough parking spaces for the seniors to park on campus.  
  
It was a beautiful day, the sun wasn't shining, the temperature was freezing, and blocking my path was high and mighty, co-captain of the varsity cheerleaders but only a junior, Danielle Newcoast.  
  
"Hello Johanna" she said spitting my name out like it was poison. Which is exactly what I was to her.  
  
"Look heah, Danielle. Ah you'se jus gonna insult me or do you'se have sumthin woith my time?" Oops, did it again. I've moved around a bit, but I've mainly lived in Brooklyn. Like every other time I've moved it's back to Brooklyn. So I usually slip in and out of a New York accent. This is another reason why I'm made fun of. Other kids either have an accent or not, but not me. No, I have to move so many times that sometimes I even find myself speaking with a southern drawl. Anyway, by time I caught myself Danielle was laughing. At me of course.  
  
"Before you insult me why don't you learn how to speak like an educated person?" Ooh. Big word there for Danielle. And there were none of her friends around for her to show off for, no cute guys either. Something was up.  
  
"What's the catch? I don't have all day" there, back out of it. Now keep in mind I'm not even 5 feet and here I am putting down the 5'6" blonde beauty with an entourage to make J-Lo jealous. Well maybe not that big. But anyway, you get the picture. It was probably a funny sight. This short, half-Italian (and proud of it. My dad's Italian but we won't get into him) wanna-be newsie putting down this tall and lanky, blonde, beautiful cheerleader.  
  
"No catch. Just thought we could have friendly conversation for once."  
  
"Bull shit" I muttered under my breath but I guess I was a little too loud.  
  
"What was that? You don't believe me?" of course I believe you. I want to believe you. But you've always been such a bitch to me that I have no reason to believe you.  
  
"No" Danielle smirked.  
  
"I was going to offer you friendship" that's when Ii almost snorted. "But I guess you couldn't recognize a good offer if it were to slap you in the face" just what I wanted to do to her right now.  
  
"Is that all Danielle? Well it was nice talking with you too but I have to get class. You see unlike you my parents aren't paying off the teachers to give me a good grade, I have to work for one" I smiled as I walked past Danielle who was trying to figure out what I just said. Dumb blonde. I looked at my watch, period for 1899 of course meaning it's a pocket watch, as I pushed open the door to the school. 7:28. Good, the halls were mostly empty. I never bothered with having a locker so all I had to do was get to my homeroom. That took about one minute and 58 seconds. I sat down in my seat just as the bell rang.  
  
"You're late, Miss Delance" my mothers last name. I hate it. But that was me, Johanna Delance. Why not my fathers name? Because my parents were never married. I'm an illegitimate child. But my father stills sends child support money, and I see him every now and then with his wife, and their three kids. His family thinks he's divorced. So I have my mothers last name.  
  
"Whatever" I muttered. Not only was I bashed by students but I was bashed by teachers. I was always late to class. Not that it mattered to me. It mattered to my mother though. She dropped out of school when she was 17, wait . . . no she graduated but didn't go to college. Now she's looking to me to get into a good college. That's a laugh. My mother wants to relive her life through me. That's not going to happen, know why? The one big difference between her past and mine, she had friends.  
  
"I don't appreciate that smart-mouth stuff in my classroom, Miss Delance. You may go sit in the hall" I shrugged, again not that it mattered to me. The class snickered as I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked out of the classroom. I was a troublemaker. I didn't actually ever do anything, but I had this fiery, stubborn attitude, which I inherited from my dad, which was always getting me into trouble. Just my luck. As I was sliding down the wall to sit down, who should walk by but the vice-principal himself, Mr. Almond.  
  
"In trouble again, Miss Delance?" I hate it when teachers do that. Call me by my last name. No matter how many times I ask them to call me Jo or Joey they still call me, Miss Delance. He was peering over his glasses looking at me. I also hate when teachers do that. "I think we should have a chat, Miss Delance" shut up! I hate that! Of course I didn't say that. I'm going to on the day I graduate, if I graduate. I picked up my bag and followed him to his office. He closed the door behind us and gestured to one of those chairs that are so uncomfortable that they make you squirm and make the principal think you're intimidated. "Have a seat please, Miss Delance."  
  
"No thank you. I prefer to stand."  
  
"I said have a seat, Miss Delance. You're already in enough trouble as it is" I sat. Mr. Almond started to pull up my files and he looked at my grades. "Not a good year is it, Miss Delance?" ok I get the point already. I know who I am.  
  
"I'm not sure, Sir" there. I was sucking up. I had to. I had to do whatever I could to prevent him from calling my mother.  
  
"You're barely passing, Miss Delance" * growl *. "You have a very low C in each of your classes" but a C is average. Like President Bush says, C students rule America. I've got a lot going for me, huh?  
  
"I guess it is a bad year, Sir" he has really big ears. I know that's off subject but you know how some people have on thing that stands out. Well his ears do. I was having trouble keeping myself from laughing. I bet that if he was to start flapping his ears he could fly, like Dumbo. I must have smiled a little because he stopped talking (he was talking? Oops) and glared at me.  
  
"Is something funny, Miss Delance?" STOP WITH THE NAME ALREADY!  
  
"No Sir."  
  
"But you were smiling, Miss Delance" and you're really getting on my nerves. I'm going to kill myself next time I hear him say that.  
  
"I have a twitch in my lip, Sir" I never fail to amaze myself. He nodded and continued. Something about ISS, in school suspension. Whatever, as long as he doesn't call my mom. Maybe I can get him to call my dad.  
  
"Do you understand what I'm saying Miss Delance" no but I understand that I'm going to shove this pencil up my nose right now. Does he think I'm having an identity crisis and I don't' know who I am? "We're going to put you in ISS for the week and monitor you next week to see if there are any changes in your behavior. Now where can I contact your mother at?" Shit.  
  
"She's out of town. But you can contact my father" I should have been an actress.  
  
"Okay" he said as he started to dial my dad's work number. He looked up before punching in the last number. "And you know our school rules, Miss Delance" yes that and along with my name. "No hats in the building". The bastard is killing me. He's stripping me of everything I am, he's killing my identity.  
  
"Sorry Sir" I took of my hat with resentment. No use getting into even more trouble. He was talking. He was leaving a message. MY DAD WASN'T THERE!!!!! ALLELUIA!!! He hung up the phone and peered over his glasses at me, again.  
  
"Your father wasn't there, Miss Delance" no shit sherlock "so I left a message. Now I'm going to escort you to ISS." Again, growl. What does he take me as? Some sort of prisoner?  
  
"Yes Sir" I got up and followed him to the ISS room, which naturally, is right next to the main office. I'd been in this room before, like I said, I'm a troublemaker. But I've never been in here for a week.  
  
"All right Miss Delance" lalala I'm not listening. "Every morning you are to report to this room, do not go to your locker" what locker? "Do not go to your homeroom" cause I want to go there. . . "And do not be late. I'll be checking in on Friday, Miss Delance, and I hope to see some improvement in your attitude" I am a prisoner. Mr. Almond opened the door and led me in. I was about to take a seat in a desk at the back but Mr. Almond pointed to a desk in the front and across from the supervisor. He said something to her about keeping an eye on me, I'm a troublemaker, except he threw Miss Delance in there a few times. I dropped my back on the floor and sank in my chair. Compared to this, being stuck on a desert island with Danielle doesn't seem like a bad alternative. I'm truly in hell.  
  
"What'd you do?" hissed the guy behind me. I turned around to see Spike, local troublemaker. It hurt me to know I'm now in the same category as him.  
  
"Absolutely nothing" I hissed back.  
  
"Miss Delance" said the supervisor in a nasally voice. "There will be no talking." Whatever. I put my head down on the desk. This would be a nice time to catch up on my sleep. 


	3. Chapter 2: A Rift in Time

A/N-Guess who's off of computer restriction . . . That's right. Me!!! Yay!!!!!!!!! And do you know what that means? Check for new stories and updates to this one and Angel Wings. And don't forget to review!! Please!!  
  
CHAPTER 2: A RIFT IN TIME  
  
Home. I never thought I'd be happy to see my apartment building but for once I was. I pulled into the back lot, grabbed my bag and ran up all eight flights of stairs, two at a time, 120 steps in all. I stuck my key in our lock and turned it but all that did was lock the door. It was unlocked! After turning it back I opened the door to see my mom sitting on out beat up couch.  
  
"I left it unlocked" she said softly. My mom's never been one for speaking loud. Her brown hair was pulled back into a messy bun and there were bags under her blue eyes. "Your father called" my beg which was already hanging on my arm slipped off. She patted the spot on the couch next to her and I almost went and sat down. My mom and I have never been close. We hardly see each other. I leave before she's awake and I get home before she gets home. I stay in my room when I get home, she gets home, makes dinner. We eat dinner together but in silence. After dinner she goes to her room and watches her little TV and I watch Newsies in the den. I don't know why and I sure as hell can't explain it. It's just always been like that. You might think because she had me when she was 19 we'd be close but we're not. I stayed standing. "Come sit next to me, I don't bite" sarcasm. I got that from her. I sat by her, mind you not next to her. Like I said, we're not close.  
  
"So . . ." I prompted. I already wasn't in the best of moods.  
  
"I'll tell you later. You don't look too good. Why don't you go rest?"  
  
"Because I want to know what dad said."  
  
"I'll tell you later."  
  
"I want to know now."  
  
"You're tired."  
  
"I slept in ISS" oops.  
  
"ISS!" that got her started. I've only heard my mother speak Turkish (I'm a quarter Turkish) once before and that was when I accidentally set my elementary school's office on fire. But that's a long story. Anyway, there was my 5'3", incredibly exhausted and pissed off mom saying who knows what in Turkish. She took a deep breath and looked at me.  
  
"I thought you said dad called . . ."  
  
"He did. What does that have to do with ISS?" I opened my mouth just as the phone rang. Good timing dad. My mom picked up the phone, listened for a moment, looked at me and I could have sworn smoke was coming out of her ears. I hate it when my mom's mad. I decided this would be a good time to make my exit but my mom was shooting so many daggers at me with her eyes that I sat back down. She started talking in Turkish, which is what she does when she doesn't want me to know what she's saying. Some day without her knowing I'm going to learn Turkish. And my dad's not only fluent in English, French, and Italian but Turkish, Spanish and Russian as well. My mom slammed the phone down and forced a smile.  
  
"Go to your room. We'll discuss this later" gladly. I hopped up, grabbed my bag and rushed to my room. I didn't matter what my mom said, I was locking my door. I sat down at my desk and for the third time that week, I wrote.  
  
I was just pouring words out on the paper. Newsies, newsies, newsies. It was an interesting story, only consisting of the original characters. No one new or made up, just the newsies. It was my numerous fan fic. I've written many before. After finishing the forth chapter I flopped down on my bed like I usually do. But this time I miscalculated where the head board was. There was only enough time for me to shout a four letter word before everything went black.  
  
I was falling. Falling in an endless sea of black, Actually, it was more like I was floating but as I went down, I started picking up speed. I reached up to my face. My glasses were gone but when I felt my head my hat was still there. I looked down as I picked up more speed to see what looked like a road appearing. I let out a blood curdling scream as I fell right onto the road. Everything went black again.  
  
Pain. All there was, was pain. My head was killing me, my muscles ached and I was probably going to look like one big walking bruise.  
  
"Hey! You'se a'ight?" someone was poking me with a stick. Did I fall out of the window. I must have. Inconsiderate bastard. I'd just fallen eight stories and all he can do is poke me with a stick. I heard the rustle of clothes as someone knelt besides me. He shook my shoulders gently. "Hey goil. Can you'se heah me?" Yup. Definitely in New York. But that voice. It was so familiar. I forced my eyes open, wondering if you could bruise your eyelids. I found myself staring into icy blue-gray eyes that I would recognize anywhere. I think I set a record. For the third time, in two minutes, everything went black. 


	4. Chapter 3: 1899

A/N-Thanx for your reviews guys(that is if you reviewed). If you haven't reviewed it yet please please do!! I'm begging here. Down on my knees begging! Make me feel loved. Ok . . . I'm weird.  
  
CHAPTER 3: 1899  
  
1) Why can't I see? I need my glasses to see and I know those eyes weren't blurry.  
  
2) It's probably all a dream. I bet that actually some guy was poking me with a stick and I just made it all into a dream. Right now I'm probably on my way to the hospital.  
  
3) They don't know CPR in 1899, do they?  
  
4) I'm hungry  
  
5) This is scientifically impossible. In order for me to go back in time I would have to have exited a wormhole and my molecular structure isn't strong enough to keep me together. I should be dead.  
  
6) I'm not as stupid as it seems. I could actually have straight A's and be top of my class if I wanted but my teachers give me absolutely no motivation so why should I do anything for them?  
  
7) SPOT CONLON!!  
  
My eyes shot open. Next to me knelt the famed leader of the Brooklyn newsies. Everything I was just thinking about I suddenly forgot. This was impossible.  
  
"Ow" I groaned. I think that's all I'm capable of saying for the time being.  
  
"Ah you'se a'ight?" yes Spot. I'm peachy, never been better. I have Spot Conlon asking me how I am. I know I sound like an obsessed fan girl. I'm not, really. It's just that if you were to meet your favorite star or character I'd like to see you not get all woozy.  
  
"No" I tried to sit up. I think I broke my back. There was pressure on my back and I realized that Spot was helping me sit up.  
  
"You'se get soaked?" oh those eyes. I love those eyes. I could look into them forever. Yes Spot, whatever you say Spot, your wish is my command. I was sitting up completely at this time but he was helping me stay up. Did I get soaked? Well if the vice principal believed me why won't Spot Conlon?  
  
"Yeah" ooh. Deep conversation we're having here. I haven't said anything more complex then three one syllable words. I wanted to get up. I tried. He wouldn't let me.  
  
"Stay heah foah a while. You'se prolly ain't strong enough ta move."  
  
"Where am I?" getting more complex as we go along.  
  
"Yoah in Brooklyn" still home. Can't escape this place, can I?  
  
"What year is it?" why am I asking? I already know. Or else I think I do. I shouldn't have asked. I'm going to lose it again.  
  
"1899" I just did what I'm sure plenty of girls have dreamed of doing since they first saw Spot, even the girls from 1899. I fainted (for the fourth time in five minutes) in Spot Conlon's arms.  
  
"Goil?" he was shaking me. Gently though. But he was still shaking me. I opened my eyes again. "Ah you'se gonna stay awake? Do I'se needs ta get you'se somewheah?" Does it matter? I'm about to faint for the fifth time. I'm in so much pain. I'm in 1899 and I'm talking to Spot Conlon. Oh my gawd. I'm inside a fan fic.  
  
I never wrote time travel fan fics. I found them stupid because it would never happen. Well guess again. I'm going to go home, if I find a way, and write like five million.  
  
"Ow" what I wouldn't give for a Tylenol. They don't have painkillers in 1899, do they? But they do have baths. A nice hot bubble bath would be nice. Or a personal massage therapist. Or just a massage. I wonder if Spot can give massages? I wonder if he even knows what one is.  
  
"Yoah really in pain, ain't ya?"  
  
"Yeah" gosh Spot, you have no idea. You've soaked before right? Well have you ever fallen 104 years at somewhere between 1-250 mph? Didn't think so. No pain doesn't even come close to describing how I feel. Hot searing agony.  
  
"I'se can take you'se to da lodgin house, see if you'se can rest theah. Ah ya light?" Did you know it's rude to ask a lady how much she weighs? Compared to other girls I'm a feather. I eat enough to get by, plus I'm short and figure-less. That's right. I'm 16 and weigh 87 lbs. on average. I'm a measly little thing.  
  
"Yeah. Thanks" Is he going to carry me? He smiled as he picked me up kind of like a groom carrying his bride. Except for gentler. I didn't think he'd be this nice. I'd enjoy it a lot more if it didn't hurt so much. I winced a little and let out a little whimper of pain. I've never whimpered before. "Sorry" he said as he carried me to the LH. This was interesting. I think he kicked the door open. I must have looked pretty bad, or maybe they were startled, but the newsies sitting around the front jumped.  
  
"What happened Spot?"  
  
"Who's da goil, Spot?"  
  
"Should we'se tell da rest of da guys not ta bothah you'se guys, Spot?" I think he glared at that one. Going up the stairs was no fun. Each step was unbearable pain. I'm going to be one big walking bruise. Did you know he had his own room? I didn't. Maybe being a famed newsie gets you your own room. Whatever. So he places me gently on the bed.  
  
"You'se should rest."  
  
"I'm fine, really" stubbornness. I'm a sarcastic, smart aleck, stubborn girl. Just what every guy wants, huh?  
  
"No, yoah not. Ya look, well, hoahable" thank you for telling me. I've been wanting to know.  
  
"Am I bleeding at all?"  
  
"Not from what I'se can see" oh my gawd! I'm still wearing a skirt. I fell through time wearing a skirt. My feet were hurting. I tried to sit up to take my shoes off but again he stopped me.  
  
"My feet hurt. I need to take my shoes off."  
  
"You'se gonna hoit yoahself even moah. Now because you'se hoit, I'll take 'em off foah you'se. But jus this once. Don't go makin a habbit outta it" it hurt to smile but somehow I managed one. I didn't know he'd be this sweet. Even though I was in agony, I was in heaven. I don't know if he actually took my shoes off. It felt so good to lie down, I fell into a deep, heavy, dreamless sleep. 


	5. Chapter 4: Eat your heart out

SHOUTOUTS TO MY LOYAL FANS:  
  
Slider- Spottie!!! Yes she's with Spottie!!! Not with with Spottie, but with Spottie. Did that make any sense? So when's the kult meet? I'll join . . . mmmmm tasty  
  
Fire- wouldn't it hurt to actually fall through time? Just being a bit different ( Don't we all want to meet the newsies. * sigh * it'd be nice  
  
A/N: Remember I own all made up characters, aka the made up newsies. Right, the people who aren't originals. Ask to use, ask to be in, I'm very nice about these things. Don't forget to review! Sorry for any spelling mistakes my spell check is not working.  
  
CHAPTER 4: EAT YOUR HEART OUT  
  
The next time I woke up, I was propt up in his bed still but I had bandages around my torso, even covering my non-existent chest. My back was killing me but a pain in my side that I hadn't noticed before was worse than everything else combined. I looked around the room and I saw Spot asleep in a chair in the corner. He looks so cute curled up like that.  
  
"You'se sleep theah all night?" now I fit in. My accent's back. I wonder for how long. His eyelids fluttered open and he sat up.  
  
"All night? It's been two days" my mouth dropped open. I've been sleeping here two whole days? "Some of da goils wheah gonna change yoah clothes two days ago an they said yoah side was poiple and swellin. So we'se fot a doctah ta come an he said yoah rib is broken. You'se ain't allowed outta bed foah anuddah six days" I broke my rib? Wow. That must have been some fall. I never want to travel back in time again. But it's all a dream, isn't it?  
  
"Sorry. I'm stealing your bed, aren't I?" darn. It's gone.  
  
"It's ok. I'se sleepin in a bunk in da bunk room. Who ah you'se anyway?"  
  
"Giuseppifine D'Amato" sorry mom. That's the name on my birth certificate. Maybe my parents were married for the month I was born. But that's my real name. My Italian name. Giuseppifine is Josephine in english. D'Amato is of course my dad's last name. But my mom made me Johanna. I hate that name. I'm Italian! "But you can call me Joey."  
  
"You'se Italian?" I nodded. Smart boy. "I'm Spot Conlon, leadah of da Brooklyn newsies. Wheah ah you'se from? And what happened ta you'se?" and why can I see without my glasses? This is really bugging me. I wonder what I look like, without my glasses that is. And all my lovely bruises.  
  
"I'm from Brooklyn, here. And I don't know what happened. Everything went dark. I passed out."  
  
"You'se suah you'se from heah? You'se don't sound like it" oh no. Not you too. Everyone is always on my case.  
  
"I've lived in other places so I lose my accent. It comes back every now and then." He nodded. "I'm really sorry. I'm taking up your bed. Thank you for bringing me here. Where did you find me?"  
  
"On da bridge, mostly. You'se was close to da dock though" the bridge, near the dock? When I stopped writing Spot was on his way back to the LH, going over the bridge. I fell into my story? That's not it. He said other girls realized the swelling. But . . .  
  
"What's da mattah?" I must have had my mouth open because he was looking at me weird. I closed my mouth, shaking my head.  
  
"Sorry. Nothing's wrong. You don't happen to have any food, do you? I haven't eaten in like 3 days."  
  
"Oh right. I'se forgot dat. I'll get you'se somthin" Spot got up and walked out of the room, reclosing the door behind him. I let out a sigh. How can this be possible? I must have gone back in time to where I stopped writing my story, but actually back in time, not to my story. This still doesn't make any sense. The door opened a little and a big pair of blue eyes looked in at me. A pair of brown eyes were over the brown eyes.  
  
"Um . . . hello?" the door was pushed open and two girls stumbled in, falling on top of each other and onto the floor. I laughed. "Are you ok?" the older one stood up, blushing and helped the smaller one up.  
  
"Sorry" she muttered and the two turned back to the door.  
  
"Wait, don't go! It's been three days since I've seen another girl" they turned back around.  
  
"I'm Pinkie. I'm eleven. How old ah you'se?" the older one slapped her on the arm.  
  
"Oh no, it's alright. I'm Joey and I'm sixteen." I looked at the older one. She sighed.  
  
"I'se Whitey and I'se foahteen. I was da one who saw da swellin in yoah side."  
  
"Thanks" the girls were so different, but they lived up to their names. Pinkie had big blue eyes and wavy brown hair. Her complexion wasn't neccesarilly pink but she was sucking on her pinky where I guess she got her name from. I guess the girls are sisters but they showed very little resembalance. Whitey had brown eyes and straggly brown hair. Her skin was so white it was almost translucent, giving her this deathly ill appearance. The girls stood there akwardly and I didn't want to say anything. I guess they were intimidated. But by me? 'Lil 'ol me? Spot walked in carrying my meal and he glared ath the girls. They ran out and I smiled half- heartedly. Again, he closed the door behind him.  
  
"Sorry it took so lon. I'se gots you'se a hot dog an some fries."  
  
"How?" do I care? No. Not really. It's food! And Spot went and got it for me. That makes everything better.  
  
"Theah's a dinnah neah by."  
  
"Thanks" he set the food down on the bedside table.  
  
"Do ya drink?" I was already biting into the hot dog and I looked up at him, hot dog still in my mouth. I quickly chewed and swallowed.  
  
"You mean alcohol?" he nodded. "Yeah, sure" actually I never have before but shhhhh.  
  
"Ok, good. Heah" he handed me a bottle of some sort of liquor, I'm not sure what. I took a sip and looked up at Spot, just standing there, looking so lonely. Poor baby.  
  
"You want some?" I held up the bottle and he walked over and took a sip. "I dunno. I kinda thought the leader of the Brooklyn newsies wouldn't be this shy" he shrugged.  
  
"I'se not, really. I'se had goils in my room befoah. Jus I'se nevah had a goil in my room with a broken rib. It's jus different."  
  
"You'se can sit down on da bed" I said as I patted part of the bed beside me. My accents back. You know what I love about it? Because it's actually a real accent, people never think I'm faking. Spot smiled and sat down. I munched on my makeshift meal. We sat in silence for a little.  
  
"Don't you'se have ta sell papes or sumthin?" now I've read the fan-fics about girls who go back in time and they, of course, know everything about newsies that I do. No, I probably know more. But they know a good amount. And then they do something stupid, like say a guys name without being told, or they're wearing normal clothes . . . I wasn't going to let that happen. I had to be a girl from 1899. No cars, no TV, no computer, no nothing.  
  
"No, it's almost seven at night. I'se not with da boys cause I came back ta see how you'se was doin" I blushed.  
  
"I'se don't' want ta keep you'se from yoah friends. It's not like I'se yoah goil or anythin" oh how I wish I was his girl. "I'se prolly gonna go back ta sleep soon. You'se don't need ta stay."  
  
"It's ok" I shook my head. Yeah. I really want him to stay but I'm using reverse psychology. Works on boys every time. Well boys from the 21st century that is. I wonder if it'll work on Spot. "No. Then you'll be alone" it's working!! I shrugged.  
  
"Fine. Stay if you'se want. I'se not keepin you'se from goin."  
  
"I'se know. I'll stay" I sighed but I was jumping for joy inside. I seriously should have done something with acting. I amaze myself. So modest, aren't I? I grabbed the liquor bottle and took another sip. Whatever it was, it was good.  
  
"I'se kinda wish you'se knew what happened ta ya" I swallowed and looked up at him in surprise. He cares. Eat your heart out fan girls, Spot Conlon cares about ME! "If you'se was soaked . . . ooh I'd like ta get my hands on who evah did it" I smiled, no I beamed, no I swooned. My hero! I wanted to throw my arms around him and plant kisses all over his gorgeous face. But I couldn't. He'd probably think I'm mad and moving my torso would be pure agony. Keep in mind, I'm in 1899 and they don't have the medical advancements we have now. I'm surprised I'll be allowed to get up in a week.  
  
"I'se told you'se all I knows. Sorry. I'se was unconcious" he sighed. Wow. He really does care. Or maybe he just wants me out of his bed. He put me here in the first place. It's his own fault. Me and my big fat thoughts. Stupid, stupid, stupid! He looked at me with a look of puzzlement as I kicked myself inside. I must have been fuming or something.  
  
"What's da mattah?"  
  
"Nuthin. Jus with I knew who did dis ta me."  
  
"Well I'se do too. Nuthin ta get mad about" he's so sweet. No fair. Why can't he live in 2003? Probably, if he did, he'd be too popular for his own good. He wouldn't even look at me twice. Maybe if I broke my rib . . . oh how I wish Danielle was here. She'd be so jealous. Spot's hotter than half the hott guys at JPHS combined. I wonder if anyone misses me. I've been gone for like three days. This doesn't make sense. I'm not complaining or anything. Just a little confused. When will I tell Spot? Will I tell him?  
  
"Yoah right. I won't" he smiled and got up.  
  
"Why don't' you'se go ta sleep. You'se need ta heal or sumthin. I'se don't know when I'll see you'se next. I'll be checkin in" I nodded. Wow was I tired. And then he, get this, leaned down and gave me a little kiss on the forehead! He walked out, shut the door and my heart sang. Oh how it sang. He just kissed me! Even if it was only on the forehead. He kissed me! Eat your heart out, Danielle Newcoast! 


	6. Chapter 5: Penny for your thoughts?

MOAH SHOUTOUTS  
  
Umbria- Thank you! I dint' know it'd be this good . . . must be all the love. Check out the major updationness . . .  
  
Mouth- I don't know if it's the best but thank you! And I don't' know about the cheerleaders at my school. I'm sure the suck for free, 24-7. Lil ho's.  
  
Glitz- I thought I was the only one who squeals around Spot. Guess not. Sugars good too. I don't know if Spot and Sugar mix though . . . too many sweet things. Heehee.  
  
************************************************************************ A/N- I really don't' have much to say right now. Just wanted to say something. Besides my normal review rant. Aw forget it. And now to the story . . . Wait!! I just remembered. Joey is going to need a newsie name. And it's easier to make a person from a name than a name from a person. So I need your help. Everyone. Check out her personality, her description, everything about her. I'm having writers block. Please help! ************************************************************************  
  
CHAPTER 5: PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS?  
  
For the rest of the week I drifted in and out of a dark, dreamless sleep. Sometimes I woke up in cold sweats and other times I woke up breathless. The pain in my side was slowly going away. Occasionally I woke up and found Spot sleeping in the chair, or getting clothes, or just sitting there. We would have brief conversations but either he would have to go or I'd get too tired. The first time I woke up after I ate, I threw up. I must have been too smitten to realize he had given me a hot dog. I'm an avid vegetarian, almost vegan. I half made myself throw up and the other half was my stomach getting sick from mixing pig intestine with alcohol. I finally woke up on the eighth day of my confinement to find Spot dozing off in the chair.  
  
"Comfortable?" Spot blinked his eyes open.  
  
"Very. Thanks foah askin" I gave him a small smile.  
  
"Can I get outta bed yet?" I feel like a little kid. 'Mommy can I get out of bed yet?' 'Not yet honey.' Except I didn't say that. Don't want to make a fool out of myself.  
  
"Yeah. Prolly. Let me help you'se" he came over to the bedside and I slowly swung my legs over the side. It had been like ten days since I had seen my legs but I knew I wasn't wearing pants when I got here. I guess Spot knew too. "Those ah mine. How'd you'se get 'em?" like I would know.  
  
"I guess one of the girls thought I should change? I definitely didn't put them on. I don't' even know where you keep your clothes."  
  
"I guess yoah right."  
  
"Can I have a shirt?" he gave me a funny look. But there was no way in hell I was going out wearing Spots pants and bandages. No way. "Like a button down one. I don't' want to put mine on, it's too tight" he sighed but got a white and blue stripped shirt for me. I slipped it on over my bandages but didn't button it. He helped me get out of bed. I hadn't walked in like ten days either so my legs were weaker than normal. He put his arm around my waist . . . in support. It was kind of nice though. I liked it.  
  
"Wheah do you'se want ta go?" anywhere Spot as long as I'm with you I'm happy. You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are . . . sorry. Got a little carried a way there. Just a little.  
  
"Outside" I smiled. Fresh air would be a blessing. Not that Spot wasn't one, but fresh air AND Spot . . . what more could I ask for? A Tylenol. And a bubble bath. And . . . carried away again. I've been inside way too long.  
  
"Does that require me ta get yoah shoes on?" his face was twisted and I laughed. Poor baby.  
  
"I guess it would. Fine, we won't go outside."  
  
"No. Yoah injured. I'se gots ta be nice ta you'se" he sat me gently down on the bed and went to get my socks and shoes. Now I really feel like a child. 'Mommy, will you tie my shoes for me?' 'No dear, but I'm sure Spot will.' 'He will?!?! Oh boy!' He came back and was about to put them on.  
  
"I can do that myself" why did I just say that? I know I can't. Why do I have to be so damn stubborn?  
  
"I'd like ta see you'se bend ovah without breakin yoah rib again" I sighed. He had a point. I knew he had a point. He took my shoes off, why can't he put them back on? It wasn't exactly what I call romantic and I was definitely having a hard time not cracking up. Once my shoes were on Spot helped me up, supporting me in the same way, arm around my waist. We walked slowly through the boys' bunkroom and he carried me down the stairs. I was having an even harder time not cracking up then. I mean I knew I couldn't walk down the stairs. What else was he supposed to do? Once we got outside I took a deep breath. Ah fresh air. Fresher than 2003 air. No pollution from cars, and other factors. I wanted to run, jump, dance, and do whatever I could. Sing in my horrible voice. I knew I couldn't, I'm basically a cripple.  
  
"Let's go to the dock" Spot smiled and nodded. My strength, which isn't much, was coming back so we walked a bit faster but he still had his arm around my waist. I'm positive I could walk without his help but I didn't want to tell him because he'd probably pull his arm away from me as fast as possible. Once we got to the dock we sat down, he removed his arm but stayed close to me, on the edge and stuck our feet in the water. Of course we had to take off our shoes.  
  
"Why did I'se eve put dem on?" I laughed.  
  
"Because you're nice" you're better than nice, you're perfect! I kicked the water with my feet. I was going to have to tell Spot soon. I mean, I can't go on playing this charade. I should have been an actress but I'm not so I don't have all the fancy training. But how do I tell him?  
  
"What ah you'se thinking about?" I looked up into his gorgeous eyes and sighed. Not because I was looking into those eyes, well that was part of it, but because I realized I have to tell him now.  
  
"Home."  
  
"Home?"  
  
"Yeah" I put my hand over his. NO! Not in that kind of way. I'm not really assertive. It was more of the brace yourself for the truth kind of way. "Spot, I'm not from here" oh that sounds stupid. That was stupid! I'm so stupid!  
  
"But you'se said you'se was from . . ."  
  
"I am. Just not Brooklyn in 1899" oh gawd, I'm confusing him. He's so lost. The look of utter confusion on his face would be funny if this moment wasn't so serious. I need . . I looked around and was my shoes. Maybe the tag on the inside would have a copyright date or something. I grabbed my shoe and looked at the tag on the tongue. Nope. Nothing. Wait! There's something in here. This is even better. No wonder why my foot was hurting, there was a penny in my shoe! Spot probably thinks I'm crazy now, I'm looking inside my shoe. But I have proof. 2001. Close enough. I took it out and showed it to him.  
  
"It's a penny . . ." I laughed a little. Of course it's a penny. But not an ordinary penny . .  
  
"Look at the year" I pointed the year with my pinky. His jaw dropped open.  
  
"Yoah kiddin right?" I shook my head. How could I be kidding? I'm no magician, I can't tamper with pennies. Of course I'm not kidding. Now what? He knows. He's going to think of me differently. I know I couldn't have kept the fact hidden. And the sooner he knows the easier to explain things, right? And who knows how long I'll be here for. I don't. I don't' even know how to get back. He squeezed my hand and I almost jumped. Oops.  
  
"I'm actually from 2003 but that penny's two years old" now he'll think I'm even weirder. I'm such an idiot.  
  
"But dat's impossible" good boy. It is impossible. But I'm here. So it mustn't be, right?  
  
"That's what I thought" he suddenly jumped up. Ok . . .  
  
"You'se lied ta me!" I did? Um . . . definitely wasn't expecting this. Or anything like this. What do I do now?  
  
"H . . . how?" I managed to stammer through my shock. He hates me! I knew it! I've screwed everything up. Good going Joey.  
  
"You'se said you'se was soaked" oh, that. Right . . . totally forgot about that.  
  
"I was. In a way. When I fell through time I got quite the beating. I couldn't have told you right away, you wouldn't have believed me. Plus I was in too much pain and I had no clue what was going on. You don't have to stay with me. It doesn't matter. Thanks for everything" I shouldn't have told him. Stupid, stupid, stupid! He's going to leave me. I'm going to get lost in 1899 Brooklyn, New York and then get attacked or raped or something horrible. I'm doomed. But he sat back down. And put his arm around my shoulder.  
  
"Sorry. Guess I ovah reacted" damn straight you did! "Yoah right. I'se wouldn't have believed you'se. I'se do now but . . . wow" I relaxed. Alleluia! He believed me! "What's it like?"  
  
"Huh?" sorry. I was rejoicing that you don't' hate me. And that you have your arm around my shoulder. Could you repeat that for me?  
  
"2003. What's it like?"  
  
"Oh" that. "It's horrible. Ugly, smoggy, dangerous. Not to mention everyone hates me" just an added factor to my hate. You know, everyone making my life a living hell. Definitely no fun.  
  
"They do?"  
  
"Yeah. They think I'm weird" do you? Everyone else does. Even my mother does. Isn't she a great mother? "Did you know they make a movie . . ." he stared blankly at me. Oops, gotta watch my phraseology. " . . . a moving picture outta you'se guys?" he laughed. Do they know what a moving picture is? A picture that moves. Anyone should be able to figure that out. He should at least.  
  
"No they don't" well I guess he does know.  
  
"Yes, they do. If I could bring you to 2003 I'd show you. But I don't even know how I'm going to get back" do I want to go back?  
  
"You'se don't have ta go back" aww so sweet. Yes dear I have to go back.  
  
"Why not? People will miss me" ha that's a lie. "Well my mom will miss me. And probably my dad" and that's it. 2003 sucks majorly.  
  
"But I'll miss you'se if you'se leave" woah. Rewind. What was that? Spot'll miss me? Scrawny little newsie obsessed me? Um . . .  
  
"You will?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"But you barley know me."  
  
"You'se don't have to know someone ta know you'se love them" love them!?!?!? STOP THE PRESSES!! Hang on! Stop! Pause! Cut! Ok now Spot that was good but where did that line come from? You never say something like that. You never love her! AAAAGGG!! He said he loves me. This can't be. He's a fictional character in a movie. He's actually Gabriel Damon!! Not Spot Conlon. And if he is real he's 105 years older then me. Eeeww that's wrong.  
  
"You . . . you do?" Spot nodded. Shit. I'm screwed. I can't fall in love. Not with him. What happens when I go back? We'll both be heart broken. "Spot you're 105 years older than me. When I go back you'll have been dead for like 40 years. What happened when I go back?"  
  
"I'll come with you'se" you'll come with me? How? If I don't know how to go back I doubt I know how the both of us can go back.  
  
"How? Spot, I love you too, but how can this work? Long distance relationships never work. I doubt 105 year ones will."  
  
"You'se don't know how you'se got heah?"  
  
"NO! I was writing about you" he blushed. "And I went to take a nap and I hit my head on the back board and everything went black. Next thing I knew I was here. I don't' know how to get back either and I don't know how you can get there" I took a deep breath. My world was crashing down on me. I'm falling in love with a boy from 1899! I know love hurts by why does it have to hurt this much? I put my head on his shoulder and he kissed my forehead. You know I like it when he does that.  
  
"We'll think of somthin" I could feel tears building up in my eyes. I don't cry often. I try not but this time I couldn't help it. He whipped away the first tear and we just sat there, staring out into the distance. And for once I was truly happy. In a depressing sort of way. 


	7. Chapter 6: For Better or For Worse

A/N-CALLING ALL MY LOYAL FANS!!! CALLING ALL READERS OF THIS STORY!!! Joey is going to need a newsie name. And it's easier to make a person from a name than a name from a person. So I need your help. Everyone. Check out her personality, her description, everything about her. I'm having such a hard time coming up with a name for her. Thank you so very much for your help Fire. If I can't think of anything soon, or if someone else doesn't come up with a better name I'm going to use one of yours(which one I don't know). I'm begging for everyone's help here! Please help! Thanks to all my more recent reviewers. Too lazy to give out shout-outs, too busy worrying about Joey's name. You're all creative people right. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE HELP!  
  
CHAPTER 6: FOR BETTER OR FOR WORSE  
  
Spot and I sat on the dock like that, for what felt like ages. He loved me, which made everything better, but there was that ever present chance floating above my head that I would go back to 2003, which made everything worse. I cried a little, ha, I'm turning into a woos. But when a guy loves you, and that guy is Spot Conlon, who's to blame? Plus I know I'm safe. If anyone tries to mess with me, they mess with Spot.  
  
"Spot why do you love me?" Joey, why are you an idiot and why do you ask such stupid questions?  
  
"I'se dunno. It's jus one of dose things. You'se don't know why it is, but it is, and it's good" I nodded. Sounds good enough to me. Who would have guessed that Spot was so smart? Well he does have more then half a brain. "How ah you'se feelin?"  
  
"My side doesn't hurt as much."  
  
"Dat's good" it's great. Especially that he cares. Oh wait . . . he loves me! Life is good right now. Except that I'm stuck in 1899 . . . but I'm stuck with Spot. Mmmmmm tasty.  
  
"I guess. Let's go back. I'm a little tired" am I tired? I dunno. I am getting bored. There's no one here. Not that I'm complaining or anything. I mean I am happy being with Spot. It's just that I'd like to talk to some other people. Talking with Spot is good. It's just . . . oh gosh, I hope this isn't coming out wrong.  
  
"Ok" Spot reached down to help me up. Or so I thought. He picked me up! He's sooo sweet. * sigh *  
  
"I can walk ya know" but I like this better. Using more reverse psychology.  
  
"Yeah but den I'll have ta put yoah shoes back on. Isn't dis easier?"  
  
"I guess" Spot handed me my shoes so I carried them. He then proceeded to carry me back to the LH and I was kinda laughing the whole way.  
  
"What's so funny?" he asked.  
  
"Just thinking what the kid's at home would do if they saw me now" I smiled.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Well they don't really like me and would never expect to see me with a guy, especially a guy like you."  
  
"What' dat supposed ta mean?"  
  
"Oh come on. You're cute and you know it. You're not just cute, you're gorgeous. Do you know how many girls would be swooning all over you in 2003?"  
  
"No" he grinned. "How many?"  
  
"All the ones at my school, at least."  
  
"Well, I'se guess yoah lucky."  
  
"I guess I am" he kicked the door open and carried me upstairs. Once we got upstairs he set me down. There were a few newsies around, mostly guys but a few girls. They all stopped what they were doing and looked over at us making me feel like I was on display. Which I probably was.  
  
"Whose da goil?" asked a particularly fierce looking guy. He had his arm draped over the shoulder of a mini-Danielle with a cigarette in her mouth.  
  
"Dis heah is Joey" he slipped his arm around my waist. Oh he has the nicest touch. Do you know how hard it was to keep from squealing? The guy nodded and the girl took a long drag on her cigarette before blowing out some smoke. Disgusting.  
  
"I'm Blanche" she said.  
  
"White?" I asked. Ha. I took some French in school. I'm in French 4 so I know quite a bit. Actually more then that. I have fluent conversations with my dad in French, now I'm working on my Italian. I just see myself talking really fast in Italian, like one of those little Italian mothers.  
  
"You'se speak French?"  
  
"A little" she nodded and took another drag on her cigarette. How does she stand that? It even smells bad. Well not that bad. I mean Spot smells a bit like that, but come one, its Spot, of course he smells good.  
  
"Well they'se call me Blanche cause . . ."  
  
"You're a blonde. I know that much" I sound stuck up.  
  
Well excuse me" she turned to Spot. "You'se got yoahself a bitch Spot. Not a goil. A bitch."  
  
"You'se watch what you'se say Blanche. I'se gots no problem soakin someone who insults me goil, even if da one who does is a goil" Spot clenched his other hand, the one that wasn't around my waist, into a fist and the guy who was using Blanche as an arm rest held up his hands.  
  
"C'mon Spot. Ease up a lil. Do sumthin with yoah goil" the rest of the guys, who I just noticed were looking on, laughed and Spot snarled. Aw, he's so cute.  
  
"Hewr rib's broke" how nice. Spot's sticking up for me. And I'm being fought over by guys. This is different. The room went silent.  
  
"Sorry" said Blanche and she handed Spot her cigarette. "We'se didn't know" Spot took a drag and offered the cigarette to . . . get this . . . me! Like I'd ever smoke. But then again they didn't know about all the health hazards and risks involved with smoking. However, I do. I casually waved him aside.  
  
"What? You'se don't smoke?" he exclaimed. Woah. Didn't mean to do that. Does everyone around here smoke?  
  
"Well, I never have before" trying to cover up. I'm really wishing I had paid attention in World History 2. I think we went over this era. Then I would know that everyone smoked. And . . . I still would have refused.  
  
"Doesn't hoit ta try" he handed me the cigarette and I just stared at it. This thing could kill me. It's filled with so many chemicals, it's just disgusting. I'm succumbing to peer pressure. Sorry Spot, but it does hurt to try. "You'se put it in yoah mouth and inhale" he said with that adorable grin of his.  
  
"You know Spot . . ." but he just glared at me. Ok. Definitely don't' want to see this side of him. I guess I'll try it. A little won't hurt. Too much. I stuck it in my mouth and inhaled lightly, trying not to breathe in the smoke. I coughed as my lungs filled with smoke and coughed smoke out of my mouth.  
  
"Well . . ." laughed Spot. This isn't funny. I could do this again. I'll show him. I took another drag. Hey! I'm getting the hang of this. I exhaled slowly.  
  
"Well what?" I blew some smoke in his face before kissing him on the cheek. "It's no that bad."  
  
"Dat's good" I nodded as I took another drag of the cigarette. So what if it's harmful. So what if it can kill me. I've had already drunk some. Sorry Mr. Danick. Guess all the stuff you taught me in health didn't help. You might as well have been teaching a brick wall. If I've already drunk, why not smoke? I wonder if an addiction will carry over into 2003. Wouldn't it be cool if it didn't? I handed the cigarette back to Spot, who took a drag and passed it to the guy. "Lemme introduce you'se ta some of da guys an goils of Brooklyn" Spot said. "Dis is Iceman, we'se call him Ice" Spot pointed to the guy who had his arm around Blanche's shoulder again. "Da foah boys playin cahds in da cornah ah, Geete, Grease, Oilah, an Pokah. You'll nevah see Geete, Grease, and Oilah without one of da othahs and if you'se do theah's some problem. Pokah usually hangs out with dis Manhattan newsie, Race" Race? Aw. I hope I get to meet the Manhattan newsies. That would be so cool. Every girls dream, and for me, it's coming true!  
  
"Da couple swallowing each othahs heads ovah theah" cut in Blanche. "Ah Twitch an Habit."  
  
"Which one's which?" yes, that's disgusting. And I seriously can't tell which one's which. I can't even tell where one person ended and another began. Can you say ew?  
  
"Da goil is Habit, da boy is Twitch."  
  
"That isn't very helpful."  
  
"You'll see if dey evah come up foah aiah" said Spot with a smile. "You'll nevah see da two of dem apaht eithah."  
  
"People here are very attached, aren't they?"  
  
"Yeah" said Blanche. "I'se could sweah dat Ice's ahm is attached ta my shouldah."  
  
"You'se wants me ta take it off?" grunted Ice, one of those few times I would ever hear him speak.  
  
"No baby. You'se can leave it on" Ice smiled, another rare thing, that he seemed to do twice around Blanche and only once when she wasn't there. Hence, the name Iceman. "Dat's Diablo" Blanche motioned to a guy asleep in a chair with an unlit cigar in his mouth. Those were the only people currently in the LH and I never would have guessed it would be like this. Wow. It seems like everyone's paired up and for the first time ever I'm not left out. I almost forgot Spot had his arm around my waist, it feels so . . . so . . . so natural now.  
  
"Da othahs ah out. The othah guys ah Plunk, Toad, Smoke, Nark, an Koke, da new guy" said Spot.  
  
"An da othah goils ah S'moah, Libble, Pinkie and Whitey" added Blanche.  
  
"I've sorta met Pinkie an Whitey"  
  
"You'se have?"  
  
"Yeah, they stumbled into my . . . er . . . Spot's room last week."  
  
"So, what's yoah name?"  
  
"I'se already told you'se" said Spot with a sigh. "Hewr name's Joey."  
  
"Dat's no name foah a newsie."  
  
"I'm not a newsie" I said. Uh hello. This is your wake up call. And where have we been these past few days? Come on. I just suddenly dropped from the sky, out of no where. I'm sure as hell that I'm no newsie.  
  
"You'se can't live heah foah free . . ." I shrugged. My own newsie name? How? Do they just look and you and say 'you'se look like a Spot' or what? Is there some secret ritual? And what kind of name would work for me?  
  
"Yoah right Blanche" said Spot thoughtfully. "She needs a name. But I'se don't know what, yet. She's only been awake foah a day. We'll think of sumthin" Blanche nodded and I'm watching my dream come true in front of my eyes. Me? A newsie? This is totally for the better! I'm going to be a newsie! 


	8. Chapter 7: Red Suspenders

A/N-CALLING ALL MY LOYAL FANS!!! CALLING ALL READERS OF THIS STORY!!! Joey is still in desperate need a newsie name. And it's easier to make a person from a name than a name from a person. So I need your help. Everyone. Check out her personality, her description, everything about her. I'm having such a hard time coming up with a name for her. Right now, I'm leaning towards the idea that CiCi gave me. That's a really good idea, but the problem is, it's more a verb, or adjective, then a noun and I'm really looking for a noun. So . . . I'm relying on you guys to pull me out of this ditch that I've dug myself. I really should have come up with her name before I made her but I'm just too stupid. I'm begging for everyone's help here! Please help! Fire, I'm putting you in the next chapter. You see you were going to be in this chapter but I wasn't able to get them to Manhattan, but if you haven't noticed they're going to Manhattan soon and I've been hinting about the newsgirls there. Thanks to all my more recent reviewers. Too lazy to give out shout-outs, too busy worrying about Joey's name. You're all creative people right. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE HELP! Ha. I only got like 2 hours of sleep last night cause me and 2 friends were having an Aaron Lohr movie marathon, so I'm really tired. You're lucky I'm still not slap-happy. At 4:30 last night I was seriously cracking up about "sheets." Actually I'm cracking up now. Just read the story.  
  
CHAPTER 7: RED SUSPENDERS  
  
You know, it's weird enough having to wake up in Spot Conlon's bed but when you wake up in Spot Conlon's bed to find Spot Conlon himself sleeping right next to you, without a shirt and with his arm around your waist I don't know what to call it. Heaven maybe? I seriously rolled over this morning, expecting to face my newsies poster but I faced something even better, my own newsie. I, of course being the idiot that I am, shot up and basically screamed.  
  
"Oh my gawd!" Spot blinked open his gorgeous eyes and stared at me, like I was a maniac, which keep in mind I probably am.  
  
"What?" he tiredly sat up next to me. I literally had to force myself to not stare at his bare chest. Did you know he's go abs? I mean you can't see them in the movie but damn, he's got one nice body! And with the sheets covering the rest of him, I'm just praying he's got pants on. I mean, I'm still in a pair of his pants and have bandages wrapped around my torso, so I'm not too worried about anything. Oops, I'm staring. he looked up at me, stormy blue-gray eyes clashing with, well, my eyes. I shook my head as if to clear out my mind a bit.  
  
"Sorry" I muttered. "Bad dream" he nodded understandingly and put his arm around my shoulder.  
  
"What was it 'bout?" what was my dream about? Reality?  
  
"I'se dreamt I'se was back in 2003" haha. My accents back.  
  
"Why's dat so bad?"  
  
"Cause you'se wheahn't theah."  
  
"Aw. Yoah too sweet" he said with a smile. He kissed me lightly on the cheek before moving to get out of bed. "Ah you'se comin? As much as I'se likes you'se bein heah, you'se have ta eahn yoah keep." oh boy! I get to sell newspapers. I've always wondered what it would be like. This is so incredibly unbelievable and totally cool!  
  
"Do you'se think I'se can take me bandages off yet?" I hope I can. They're getting really annoying and pretty stinky.  
  
"Uh . . . shoah" he said slowly. Maybe I should go one more day with them on. I also got out of bed. Good. He was wearing pants. I looked around, a blinking light going off in my head.  
  
"Um . . . what should I'se weah?" Spot scratched the back of his neck. Aw, he looks so cute doing that!  
  
"Jus throw on some of my clothes. We'll think of sumthin else lateah."  
  
"And yoah clothes would be wheah?" Spot opened up a trunk.  
  
"Heah" I nodded and went over next to him, both of us searching through the trunk for clothes. Oo! Look! His red suspenders. I wonder if . . .  
  
"Ah dese ok?" I held up my selection, brown pants, a white button shirt to put on over my bandages, and his red suspenders.  
  
"Yeah, shoah" he didn't even look up! I sneaked off to the washroom to change. The shirt fit nicely, but I didn't button it so not to squish my ribs, and the pants were just a little too big. Like they dwarf me. Oh well. I look hott as a newsie. Especially with the nice scratch on the side of my face. Makes me look tough. Grrrrrrrrr. I walked back to Spot's room carrying Spot's pants in one hand. The suspenders were hanging over my butt, you know how some of the guys wear theirs in the movie? Yeah.  
  
"I brought back yoah pants dat I was borrowin last night."  
  
"Thanks. Have you'se seen me . . ." he turned and his eyes practically popped out of the sockets. Then he glared at me. "Me suspendahs."  
  
"Oh, ya mean dese? Theah a bit ratty but I like em . . ." I smiled, egging him on. This is so much fun! Plus I get to wear Spot's clothes, not to mention his signature red suspenders.  
  
"Joey . . ."  
  
"Yes Spot?"  
  
"Does ah my suspendahs. I always weah dem."  
  
"I know. You'se do in da movie. Dat's why I took em. Can I weah dem foah taday?" no? Let's see if the 'ol puppy face will work on him. "Please?" look at me pout. I'm pouting. I'm a world class pouter. No one can resist me. At least I know Spot can't.  
  
"Fine . . ." he finally said, giving in with a smile. "Dey look . . . good on you'se."  
  
"Dey look bettah on me den on you'se."  
  
"No dey don't."  
  
"You'se don't think I'm pretty, do ya?" I pretended to sniff. I am so bad. Trying to get him to say that I'm pretty. Actually I know he will. All guys would. I mean if you manipulate them in the right way.  
  
"I think yoah pretty. I think yoah goigeous. It's jus dat . . ."  
  
"Yes . . .?" can you pull yourself out of this hole you've just dug for yourself Spot? It's pretty deep.  
  
"Aw, now yoah messin wid me mind" he looks so cute when he's confused. I walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek.  
  
"Don worry bout it. I'se still love you'se. Now go get sumthin decent on."  
  
"What? You'se don like dis?" he grinned as he flexed an I melted. Oh my gosh. Yes Spot, I love that. I'm obsessed with that. Wow. My eyes popped out of the sockets this time.  
  
"Yoah goigeous. Get dressed" I patted him on the stomach to encourage him and, yes, to feel his abs. Damn. He's got some fine abs. Now I know that it's Gabriel Damon who needs to work out, not Spot. No, of course not my Spot. I sat down on the bed and waited for Spot to come back. I wonder what he's going to do about the suspenders? Spot cleared his throat and I looked over at him leaning against the doorway looking super sexy. I'm stupid. Of course he has more then just one pair of suspenders, the red ones are just his favorite. He was wearing black pants, a blue shirt with the top buttons unbuttoned looking very good, and brown suspenders. Whatever. He's hott.  
  
"Ah you'se ready ta be a newsie?"  
  
"Spot, I've been ready ta be a newsie since I'se knew what a newsie was. Of coise I'm ready" I got up and Spot stuck his hand out for me. I took hold of it and we walked out into the empty bunkroom. I guess Spot's not the most punctual person. We walked downstairs and out the door hand in hand.  
  
"Aftah we'ah done sellin papes I'se needs ta go ta Manhattan foah some business."  
  
"Can I'se come? Da movie is mostly bout da Manhattan newsies and theah strike so I'se really wanna meet dem" I wonder if I'll meet the Manhattan girls, if there are any. He sighed. What? He doesn't want me with him? Oh that hurts, I mean it really hurts. Seriously.  
  
"Fine. You'se can come" my face lit up and he smiled. "Whatevah makes you'se happy I'll do foah you'se" I have got this boy whipped good. He is seriously wrapped around my finger. Do you have any idea how many girls are jealous of me right now? You're probably jealous of me. But hey, if I was you I'd be jealous of me. I have Spot Conlon, leader of the Brooklyn newsies, most feared and respected newsie in New York an possibly everywhere else, eating out of the palm of my hand. This is truly amazing.  
  
"It makes me happy a'ight" I kissed him on the cheek. It makes me very happy, you have no idea how happy it makes me. I could sing, but I'll spare you that torture. This is a dream come true. I'm in 1899, Brooklyn, New York, with Spot Conlon wrapped around my finger, and I'm about to meet the Manhattan newsies. Could life possibly get any better? 


	9. Chapter 8: Yippi Yi Yo Ki Ay!

A/N-YAY! Joey has a newsie name. What is it? Well you'll just have to read to find out. Thank you all for your contributions, they were lovely and CiCi I loved yours. But I used the name that could work. I hope nobody's feelings were hurt. I LOVE YOU ALL!!!!!!!!!! Just to let you know I won't be in town from wens-sun(next) so don't expect any recent updating. I'm going on my band trip(yay!) and I won't have access to a computer. Are you going to miss me? I know you're going to. Why wouldn't you. Mucho thanks to my recent reviewers. *looks at candy coated Spot* um Fire? What do I do with this? I don't' want to eat Spot. Well . . . maybe I do . . . *smiles* and I took just a little liberty with your character, but not much. Tell me if you like!  
  
DISCLAIMER- I do not own any newsies, Disney does. I do not own Fire either, she owns herself. However I do own Joey and the plot. Please ask to be in the story or to use any of the characters. THANK YOU!  
  
CHAPTER 8: YIPPI YI YO KI AY  
  
I am in heaven. There is no better way to put it. And surprisingly I have proved myself wrong, life can get better. Who would have guessed that selling papes would be so much fun? Well maybe it wasn't THAT fun but the fact that I sold with Spot changes everything. And I sold 40 papes all by myself! Did you know that Spot sells 125 papes. I mean, wow. He's so talented. And he 'improves the truth so well. If I seriously didn't know the truth I would have believed him!  
  
"I'm hungry" I turned to Spot, who I was holding hands with. I honestly have no idea where we're going, but does it matter?  
  
"Don worry. We'se headed ta Manhattan an theah's dis great dinnah theah, wheah we'll meet most of da Manhattan newsies" Tibby's? I'm actually going to Tibby's? This is amazingly unbelievable!  
  
"Good" I smiled at him and then out of the corner of my eye I saw something I recognized, the Brooklyn Bridge. Of course it looks different in 1899 then in 2003 but it's still the Brooklyn Bridge. "How much longer? We've been walking so long!" grr. My accents been flickering on and off today. It would actually be kinda funny but it's been pissing me off. I hope it's back by time we get to Manhattan and Tibby's. This is one of the few times I'll ever fit in so I'd kinda like to keep it that way.  
  
"Yoah gettin tiahed?" he looked at me, amusement in his eyes. We've been teasing each other all morning so I've gotten used to it, and was ready to rebuke.  
  
"Hey! Keep in mind I just fell through time and I have a healing broken rib. I'm not exactly in tip top physical condition."  
  
"Yeah but . . ." I grabbed his cane from under his brown suspenders. Who hasn't wanted to do that? "What do you'se think yoah doin?"  
  
"Taking your cane. What else?" I smiled deviously at him. This is fun!  
  
"Well you'se bettah give it back."  
  
"Apologize and I will" I grinned this time and he sighed. Am I good or what? I mean seriously. Who had any idea that Spot would be this whipped? Not me!  
  
"Fine. Sorry" he stuck his other hand out. "Me cane . . ." I handed it back to him with a little kiss on the cheek.  
  
"Now that wasn't too hard, was it?" by this time we were about half-way over the bridge and I didn't even notice us walking onto it.  
  
"I'se guess not" he said sheepishly. This is funny. I seem to have found the soft spot in the infamous, fearless, tough, leader of the Brooklyn newsies. What is this soft spot? Me!  
  
"So . . ." tell me about the people I'm gonna meet" sure, I know quite a lot from web-sites and stuff but I want to know Spot's opinion and view of them. At least I think I do.  
  
"Well theah's Cowboy, Racetrack, Kid Blink, Mush, Davey, Pie Eater, Skittery, Snoddy, Snipeshooter, Itey, Dutchy, Swiffty, Bumlets, Boots, Crutchy, Snitch, Jake, and Specs. Dose ah da guys" thank you Spot, but I already knew them. I want to know what you think of them. Duh! "Da goils ah Scottie, Dane, Renegade, an . . ." Spot laughed a little in a cheerful way. "Of coise, Fiahcrackah" hmm. Why'd he laugh when he said Firecracker? Did they have something? Well at least I know there are some girls there. But who's this Firecracker. And why's she an of course?  
  
"Firecracker?" I definitely have to clear this up with Spot.  
  
"Yeah" he grinned. "Me an Fiah, well, we'se don get always get along too well" gasp! Spot doesn't always get along too well with a girl. What a shocker! What a surprise! I never would have guessed!  
  
"What did you do?" ha. I know him too well.  
  
"We won't get inta dat. Let's jus say when I'se foist met hewr, I'se set hewr off."  
  
"Oh . . . ok" that's perfectly understandable. As much as I love Spot, now and before, I can see where he can set a girl off. Sure, he's a ladies man, but either the ladies love him or they hate him. Me, I love him. And he loves me!  
  
"Welcome to Manhattan!" Spot gestured out with one arm, the one that wasn't holding my hand. Do you have any idea how different Manhattan is? The movie didn't even come close to showing Manhattan in 1899. Yeah, sure they got something's right but seriously. This is actually quite amazing.  
  
"Thank you?" we walked through the streets of Manhattan, Spot spinning his cane in one hand, he's actually very skilled at that. We walked past shabby apartment buildings, abandoned warehouses, and dark alleys. I seriously have it pretty good, with my dinky apartment and all. It's better then these shabby apartments! We approached a place I recognized . . . Tibby's!  
  
"An heah's Tibby's, da best dinnah in all New Yawk."  
  
"Why's that?" I don't know about you but I've always wondered why the newsies hang out there. Out of all the dinners in Manhattan, in all of New York City, why Tibby's?  
  
"Cause dey serve us heah. I'se mean all of us. Othah dinnahs don't like havin lot's of kids theah, dey think we'ah . . . disruptive" so that's why. I always thought it was because the food was good. Maybe it is good. I'll just have to find out for myself.  
  
"Oh. I see. Dat makes sense" YES! My accent's back. Perfect timing. At all the times it could come back, it comes back before I enter the dinner. Now I'm not a reject!  
  
"Aftah you'se me deah" Spot let go of my hand to open the door. I walked in and bit my tongue to keep from screaming. AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! NEWSIES! TONS OF NEWSIES! TONS OF HOTT NEWSIES! Although this is just a tad awkward. You know, having them all stare at me like I'm some sort of circus freak. Spottie dearest? Where are you? Ah there you are. Spot put his arm around my waist and I put my arm around his waist. He guided me over to where Jack was sitting, with Davey, Les, and Crutchy.  
  
"Ah, Spot" Jack said with a smile as I fainted inside. He is gorgeous. Seriously. NO kidding here. Yeah so is Spot, but he's like a god. *drool* I guess he hasn't noticed that Spot's got a girl hanging off his arm, or maybe it's just typical. But I am no typical girl. No sir. Not me.  
  
"Heya Jacky-boy" Spot spit into his other hand and spit-shook with Jack. "This heah is Joey" he paused and smiled at me. I fainted inside, again. "Me goil" he added. I heard a faint giggle and turned to see where it was coming from. Spot also turned, with a look of half amusement, half annoyance on his face. A young girl, she must have been around 13, sat in a booth, sandwiched between Blink and Mush, facing Race and Pie. She had short red-brown hair just a little shorter then mine, glasses, and freckles. I'm guessing that's Firecracker.  
  
"Spot's got a goil? How long can dis one last?" did she just say what I think she said? Cause if she just said what I think she said if I were her, I'd be running from me. Or Spot. Did that make any sense?  
  
"Fiah" he said patiently. "I'd like you'se ta meet me goil, Joey. Joey dis is Fiah. Da rest ah Blink, Mush, Race, an Pie" he pointed each one out but, duh, I already know who they are. Although I can't make any dumb mistakes. It would probably be best if only Spot knows where I'm actually from.  
  
"Hello Joey" she said with a smile. "How much is he payin you'se?"  
  
"Absolutely nothin. I'm not like da udahs. You'se see" I leaned in to whisper to her. "I'se gots Spot eatin outta da palm of me hand" I laughed and so did Fire.  
  
"Well den Joey. I'd have to say yoah one lucky goil" Spot's face lit up.  
  
"Dat's it! I'll call you'se Lucky. Yoah name can be Lucky!" oh. That's cute. I actually like it. Lucky. Well it doesn't quite fit me. I'll grow into it. This Fire girl, I like her. Cute, seems sorta quite, but what the hell. I need friends. Even if they are all in 1899.  
  
"Lucky it is den" i said with a smile and shared one of those just girls winks with Fire. NO matter how many times Spot would probably say, sometime in the future, that he came up with my name, me and Fire would know the truth.  
  
"Everyone. Dis is Lucky" Spot said loudly and I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. I'm not easily embarrassed but thank you Spot.  
  
"Well den Lucky" I looked up to see Jack towering over me. Not that that's hard to do or anything. He spit in his hand and stuck it out to me. "I'se Cowboy" we spit-shook and I could only grin. Yippi-Yi-Yo-Ki-Ay! 


End file.
